I taste like nothing, except a tomato. I'm sometimes sweet and sometimes tart; sometimes juicy, sometimes crisp. The roles of a tomato are many and varied. I am an exception to all the rules.

Apparently my mother has decided that living over here is going to be okay. Her physical therapist told her it "just wouldnt' be advisable" for her to try to live independently, and she's accepted it, very quickly. Why having this person say it was better than anyone else, who knows? Maybe she's just heard it from enough different people now to know that people aren't just trying to boss her around, but concerned for her health and safety. It's kind of a relief, though, although I know it won't all be roses and chocolate, it's easy than pretending that this really is only a temporary solution, when we've all really known all along that it's not.

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I am a subtle flavour, quiet and polite, gentle, almost ambient. My presence in crowds will often go unnoticed. Best not to spill me on your clothes though, I can leave a nasty stain. What Flavour Are You?

It said if I were not tea, I'd have been Vanilla. I like both of those.